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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449935">Lows and Well, Lows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiserkorresponds/pseuds/Kaiserkorresponds'>Kaiserkorresponds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Chronic Illness, Gen, Good Friend Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has Diabetes, Protective Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), The Magnus Archives Season 2, Type 1 Diabetes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:10:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiserkorresponds/pseuds/Kaiserkorresponds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeah I know." Tim muttered, and guided the tip of Jon's finger, slick with just the tiniest drop of blood, to the strip. </p><p>He watched with bated breath as the meter took its customary fifteen seconds to read and then displayed a flashing 44. </p><p>He let out a deep exhale. "Forty-four, Jon. Which flavor of glucose tablets strikes your fancy this time?"</p><p>--</p><p>Or Jon has type 1 diabetes and Tim helps him out with a blood sugar low after he doesn't take care of himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lows and Well, Lows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Jon, you gotta stop doing this." Tim muttered, squeezing tightly at the tip of Jon's finger for just the slightest bit of blood. "I know you hate breaks, but this is getting ridiculous."</p><p> </p><p>Jon gave no response beyond a low groan, his fingers trembling harshly in Tim's grip. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah I know." Tim mumbled, and guided the tip of Jon's finger, slick with the tiniest drop of blood, to the strip. </p><p> </p><p>He watched with bated breath as the meter took its customary fifteen seconds to read and then displayed a flashing 44. </p><p> </p><p>He let out a deep exhale. "Forty-four, Jon. Which flavor of glucose tablets strikes your fancy this time?" </p><p> </p><p>Jon groaned faintly, his eyeslids fluttering. "The grape ones. I like those." </p><p> </p><p>Tim sighed again, and dug through the kit, yanking out a pack of the disgustingly purple tabs. </p><p> </p><p>Shaking out a dose into his hand, he passed them to Jon with a stern look. </p><p> </p><p>"Chew these, alright. We'll test again in fifteen minutes. If it still isn't up you're going to the clinic though, and nope." He cut off Jon's feeble protest before it even began. "You've been low three times this week. I know you don't want to lose working time, but this is gonna start taking a toll if it hasn't already. You're gonna either take better care of yourself now or you're gonna end up in the A&amp;E, and I, for one, would rather you just ate a snack every couple of hours than watch them poke and prod you there so you don't fall into a coma."  </p><p> </p><p>Jon glared at him from under his lashes, chewing irritatedly on the chalky tablets. </p><p> </p><p>"You got me?" Tim asked. </p><p> </p><p>Jon gave a single jerky nod and swallowed with a gulp, cringing at the consistency of the tabs as they went down. </p><p> </p><p>"Good, now we just gotta wait fifteen and check again, and I'm not listening to any complaints about it." Tim said, tossing the used strip and preemptively sliding out another. "Just relax until then and let it work, okay? I don't want to drag you to the clinic any more than you want to go, but I will if it doesn't come up a bit." </p><p> </p><p>Jon dipped his head in another nod, visibly swiping his tongue around his teeth for the last of the powder. </p><p> </p><p>"Alright, we've got about twelve minutes now, so just sit back, relax and enjoy some grape flavored chalk, boss."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tumblr: KaiserKorresponds</p></blockquote></div></div>
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